Bullet Proof, I Wish I Was
by Stacey V
Summary: 'Going through a rough time' may be a bit of an understatement for Tony. Lucky for Loki, he gets to deal with it. Needless to say he isn't exactly thrilled. College AU
1. Chapter 1

_Do you remember that day when we met  
You told me this gets harder  
Well it did,  
Been holding on forever,  
Promise me that when I'm gone you'll kill my enemies,  
The damage you've inflicted temporary wounds  
I'm coming back from the dead and I'll take you home with me  
I'm taking back the life you stole_

_We never got that far,  
This helps me to think all through the night  
Bright lights that, won't kill me now, or tell me how  
Just you and I, your starless eyes remain._

- This Isn't A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish

Loki had never really given the young man much thought. For months now, he had just been another person in his class, another face in the crowd. Just one more person who didn't – wouldn't – spare him another look.

It wasn't his fault.

He couldn't help it if he wasn't born into wealth like all the others, and couldn't afford the expensive clothes, the lavish trips and the opportunity to become whatever his heart desired. He didn't have the luxury. From the beginning it had been about getting an education so he could get a decent job, get out of the ghettos and – and what? Have the life his mother and father could never provide for him? That's what his mother had always told him, when she was stuck taking care of two small children while her husband – Loki's father – was away at work working the late shifts, double shifts, it didn't matter. Whatever it took to put food on the table for his family.

When he grew from a stupid, naïve little boy into a bitter brooding teenager, he had often bitterly asked his parents why, why on earth would you have child when you can barely provide for yourself? It took him years to finely understand why when he would scream the question at them, they would simply look at him and say calmly _"It's because we _love you and Thor, Loki." There little family didn't have a lot, not at all, but what they didn't have they made up for with love.

Loki hated to admit it, but he'd hated that he'd left the three of them, his father Odin, His mother Frigga, and his brother Thor, at home. Despite the fact that Thor was older, he continued to live in their childhood home, an old apartment in Harlem, New York, helping out their parents with the rent while working three different jobs to save up enough to get he and his girlfriend Jane a place of their own. Although Loki would rarely never admit it to anyone, he was secretly a little jealous of Thor for having Jane. But he had never seen two people so deeply in love, two people who cared about each other the way that they did. And really, he deserved her, because to Loki, Thor was the hardest working person he'd ever met in his life.

But still, one day he dreamed he'd have someone as loving and caring to come home to as Jane.

In the meantime, however, he was in college, which, when he first found out that he'd qualified for a full scholarship seemed like the best thing on the planet. After he'd met many of the people here, however, it didn't seem so amazing. For the most part, people tended to just ignore him, and Loki was pretty much fine with that. The sideways glances, the whispers behind the backs of hands and the way nobody would talk to him _ever_? Well, those got old fairly quickly.

That, and he'd met a few very, _very_ strange people while he was supposedly being educated for the real world. The crazies he actively tried to avoid. Unfortunately, at this moment, he was somewhat trapped.

He inwardly cursed himself for losing track of time at the library. As a result of staying 'a little later' (three extra hours) to read, what he considered to be one of the _best books he'd ever read_ (and, no, that's not because he'd happened to glance up at the clock and was forced to scurry quickly back to his dorm _right at the fucking climax of the story_) he was well beyond curfew. Not wanting to be caught wandering the halls at one a.m., Loki had taken what he thought was a shortcut by sneaking out the front doors and climbing up the fire escape on the side of his dorm.

He was rushing so much that he tripped over something in the dark, causing him to stumble and loose his balance dangerously, his body lurching scarily close to going over backwards as he lunged for the railing. As the bottle of Tequila fell over the side of the metal grate, Loki heard a soft sigh to his right.

Upon closer inspection, the man appeared to be severely intoxicated, to the point where he didn't notice, or didn't _care_ that Loki had just kicked the rest of his Tequila off a fire escape. After convincing his racing heart that no, in fact, he was not _actually_ going to get mauled by bears or something to that affect, Loki attempted to get the man's attention. When that didn't work, he just talked in the hope that maybe he was listening.

"Hey, um, I am very sorry about your bottle, I didn't mean to do that. I couldn't see all that well, what with it being night and all. Um, you know what? I don't really think you'll be needing any more of it anyway. In fact, why are you out here? You look like you're going to fall, so let's just head back inside now and you can-"

"Maybe I should." The voice somehow managed to sound completely devoid of emotion, and waver a little on the last few words. _Damn it._ God forbid somebody else had to deal with this or anything. But nope. It was always, _Hey, Loki, could you watch my man-eating dog this weekend? I promise, he's friendly!_ Or, _Hey, Loki, would you mind talking to my girlfriend for me? She's really upset and sobbing, and y'know, I'm no good with these girl things…_ And who could forget the occasional, _Loki, could you please pick up my grandmother from the airport…yeah, she's blind and deaf…no, no, it'll be fine. Just take her bags for her, and she'll understand._ That handbag had had a metal clasp dammit, and Loki found out the hard way that those actually hurt when they hit you in the eye. Besides, she had a mean swing for an old lady, so he downright _refused_ to apologize for that black eye.

"Pardon?" He answered, snapping himself back to reality sharply, this seemed important.

"Maybe. I. Should. Fall, I mean." He hiccupped, looking over the edge gloomily, finally mourning the loss of his beloved drink. "It'd probably be less painful. I dunno, bullet through the skull just seems more violent. Slitting my wrists seems pretty emo, but, eh, what do I know? I'm suicidal, I think that makes me emo by default. What do you think?"

The more the man talked, Loki began to recognize him. This was the genius boy, Howard Stark's kid. He was top in both the Biochemistry _and_ Geoengineering classes that Loki was taking, and, it was rumored, in all his other classes, despite the fact that he rarely actually attended the classes. When he did decide to show up, it was often drunk off his ass and completely incompetent. And yet he still managed to beat everyone by at least double. Impressive, to say the least.

For once, Loki was completely tongue-tied. "Um. Don't? Please? Um…"

"Tony."

"What?"

"_Tony_. My name. And why not?"

"Look, Tony," With a soft sigh, two of Loki's long, pale fingers found the bridge of his nose. It was really too late for this. "You seem to want to talk." That was an understatement. "So, why don't you just tell me why your considering…this."

"Throwing myself off a building?"

"Among other things, yes."

Stark made like he was going to push himself up and walk away, but before he was even to his feet he staggered, nearly taking both himself and Loki over the edge. "I…I…s'not a pretty story…" By now, his words were almost slurred to the point where they became unrecognizable from each other.

"Well then," He said, settling himself down, keeping one eye on the man, the other on his feet which were now precariously dangling over the edge. "Let's hear it."

Tony didn't know why he did it. Actually, that wasn't really true. He knew _why_ he'd spilled his guts to some boy in his class, but that didn't stop him from being completely disgusted with himself because of it. At first it seemed hard, he didn't know where to start his story. Of course, he couldn't tell him _everything_, there was quite simply too much to tell, beginning when he was a little boy. Macaroni pictures to A+ math tests to skipping numerous grades and getting into the world's top colleges and schools, none of it mattered to Howard Stark.

Nobody cared for him. Nobody cared about him. What was his future? To take over Stark Corp. and follow in his father's footsteps? No, ever, he refused to be like the man he despised. He would rather be dead, and after today, he'd just seen no other alternative.

"Why now?" The boy asked. _Loki_, Tony thought sluggishly to himself, he vaguely remembered seeing the mere shadow around campus, slinking around and always clutching an armload of books. Always alone. Never excluded, but still the obvious outsider if anyone were to ever see the students for the first time. "I mean, surely you realized before today that your father was a selfish sonuvabitch, no offense,"

"None taken." Came the airy reply.

"And you've probably known since you tumbled out of your mother's womb that you were to take over the company one day. So, my only question is, why tonight? Up until this point you've seemed fine- "

A snort came from his own mouth. _Fine. What a lie. But that was all he was; some giant fucking lie of a man, or at least, that's what she'd told him earlier that same night. She said she couldn't be with someone who lied, even to themselves. _

_"-or, relatively stable for Tony Stark, anyway. What changed?" _

_When Tony had said that no one cared for him, he certainly didn't mean that it was and always had been that way. In fact, until mere days ago, he had had the most dedicated best friend/girlfriend (the second part was off and on – more often than not off) he could've ever dreamed of having. But nothing good lasts, especially when it's important to someone. Especially when it's the most important thing, or in this case person, in the world to one Anthony Stark. _

_Before the word even left his mouth, he balled his hands into fists at his side; he couldn't even speak the name without practically falling to pieces. Pathetic. "Pepper." He barely whispered into the stifled chill of the night. _

_"Potts?" The voice sounded surprised, and Tony half glanced over at him sitting there, cocking one eyebrow and furrowing his forehead in one fluid movement, asking a silent question. Loki either didn't notice, or made the executive decision to resolutely ignore him. "The red haired woman who always used to hang out with you? What, did you two break up, or-" _

_"Never going out." The muted reply was bleak and already anticipating the next part of the conversation, one that he usually tried to actively avoid at all costs. _

_Instead of paying attention, Tony decided to list all the presidents of the United States backwards, beginning with Washington. _

"What? Are you kidding me?" _Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson._ "Never going out? But you guys were _always_ together…" _James – Madison and Monroe, John Quincy Adams._ "And I _swore_ I saw you two making out at last year's Christmas party…" _They had? Well, now, come to think of it – fucking _focus_ Tony. Andrew Jackson. President number seven, best known for-_ "You guys just always seemed…I don't know, really, really good for each other. Whenever I saw you –and, albeit, it wasn't any more than a handful of times, you two both looked like grinning fools. _Where was he? Oh, yeah. Jackson. But who came after Jackson? Goddammit, _who fucking came_ after Jackson?_ "…I wish I had a friend like her."

Tony Stark snapped.

"Yeah? Well, so do I. Everyone does."

A rather pregnant paused followed this statement, then, "…What happened?"

"Pepper gave up."


	2. Chapter 2

_A heart that's full up like a landfill,  
A job that slowly kills you,  
Bruises that won't heal._

_You look so tired unhappy,  
I'll take a quiet life,  
A handshake of carbon monoxide,_

_And no alarms, and no surprises  
No alarms, and no surprises, please._

-No Surprises

"She…she what?" Not for the first time in the conversation, Loki was startled. "But, I thought you said-"

"I _did_, but everyone gives up sooner or later. Pepper was no different."

"Well, that doesn't seem very fair."

"Believe me. It is. Nobody cares anymore – or at least, I drove anyone that ever may have cared far, far away."

"I-"

"Aaaaand don't even try saying that you _do_," Tony's laughter was _not_ hysterical. Bordering on mentally troubled, maybe, but _not_, no, definitely not hysterical. "Because I know that you don't. You're just like everyone else, you do this because if you just walked by me tonight, and I ended up thrusting myself off of a very high vantage point, you'd feel _guilty_. You don't even fucking know me."

The pair were silent again. In his own case, he was waiting, waiting to see what kind of retort Loki-whoever-he-was could use on himself _now_. But Loki's face…it just looked thoughtful. Maybe even a little bit regretful. "You're right. I don't know you, Tony Stark, and quite frankly, I'm rather glad of that fact. To me, you just come off as being an ass. Perhaps that's only because you're drunk, but you're an ass all the same."

"Well, geez, don't hold back. Tell me how you _really_ feel." His would-be biting response was met with an unnaturally cool, green gaze.

"What? I am merely being honest with you, Mr. Stark. Besides, what I think about you is irrelevant and beside the point. For whatever reasons you'd like to attribute it to, I'm here now, and I'm listening. If you wanted to hear my reason, I would say that I stopped tonight because you looked like you needed help. But I know you're not going to buy that at all, so why don't we just get back to where we left off, hmm? Finish telling me what happened with Potts."

"I don't-"Tony hadn't signed up for this, and he didn't want to talk about it. He just didn't. Thinking about Pepper was, at this point, physically painful. Throughout the years, she had been nothing but understanding, caring, the best friend (and even, when he was lucky, occasional _girlfriend_) he could possibly imagine, and she always, _always_ had his best interests at heart. Which sometimes became a problem, because it meant that her intentions and his intentions didn't end up lining up a lot of the time.

But through all the alcohol fueled rages, the days when he just couldn't bring himself to pull his own ass out of bed, and every time he had been _this close_ to feeling like just ending it all, she always came through for him. What more could he say? She was, quite simply _always there_. Always had been and always would be. At least that's what Tony had thought.

It was the phone call from his father's secretary that had finally gotten to him. As if to add insult to injury, his own father couldn't even be bothered to call his damn son once in a while. Instead, Howard Stark's secretary, Betty, had called to inform him that his recent car accident involving three separate parties, excessive drinking, several trees, a field, one very irate old man, no less than twelve police officers, a trip to the hospital and four cracked ribs (along with several bottles of scotch), had brought with it very bad press for, Tony, his father, and the company. Very calmly, she had notified a gaping Tony that his father was very displeased, at this.

And then…that was it. No 'Stop this, you're going to get hurt', no, 'He wants you to be safe', not even a 'we only want what's best for you'. Ears ringing with her voice, _Howard is most displeased…Howard is most displeased_ echoed through his head and in a blind rage, he reached for the nearest bottle.

Several hours later, enter Pepper, who, after a very long, long day was just looking forward to relaxing with a friend. No crazy parties, no yelling, and absolutely _no_ drinks. Just the two of them, watching a movie, hanging out, _anything_ but the insanity that _was_ Tony Stark.

What she met when she walked through the door made her wish she'd just stayed in her room that day. Tony lay on the floor in an indignant sprawl, limbs tangled in ways that would make even a master chiropractor scratch his head in confusion. To say that Pepper was less than pleased would be a gross, and rather unfair understatement.

_Two Hours Ago_

Laying on the bed, her palms passing roughly over her eyes, Pepper wished the horrible twisting, fluttery feeling in her stomach would go _away_. She _hadn't_ been too hard on him, really. She had put up with more than her fair share of uncontrollable drinking from Tony, she had given him her help, her advice, her fucking _tireless patience_, and it wasn't doing an ounce of good for the man.

_No,_ Sitting up harshly, she forced herself to get up and mechanically walk to her book bag. _Tony needs to learn to deal with his own problems. You keep fixing things for him. The only helpful thing, and really, quite frankly, the only _logical_, yes, logical, thing to do is to leave him on his own. Let him solve his own problems for once. Really, it's just irresponsible for me to do anything else. I bet he'll actually _thank_ me when this whole thing is done._

And so, feeling worlds better about her actions than she had mere minutes previously, Pepper Potts sat down at her desk to begin what was sure to be hours' worth of homework. For the moment at least, she was consoled, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil currently churning through her ex- best friend and boyfriend.

"…you don't what?" Loki prompted, for the other student had gone completely silent.

"Well, it's not like I don't understand, cause I do, it's just-"

"How does that even fall vaguely close to understandable? " Loki interjected. Really, sometimes he just needed to know when to _shut up_, and now was one of those times when that would have been really, very handy. Stark looked murderous, but he plowed on regardless. "If someone is your _best friend_, you don't just give up on them because they're having trouble. If anything, it's most important to stick by them. What kind of a friend is Pepper Potts anyway if-"

"Don't. You. Fucking. _Dare_ say a _word_ about Pepper! You don't _know_ her, so don't even pretend to know what it's like, being my friend. She is the most amazing person I have and will ever meet, so just stop right there." Finally, after his rant, he seemed really and truly defeated. Loki couldn't actually recall ever seeing a more seemingly lost person in his entire life. "I…I…" It was as if he had nothing more to say. As if there was nothing more _to_ say.

"Come on Stark," He said, not unkindly, as the other gazed at him, looking slightly pathetic now that most of the rage had worn off. "It's late, and we _both_ should be getting to bed. C'mere. I promise, you'll feel better in the morning, and at least tomorrow's Saturday, right?"

"…I guess."

It was a testament to his exhaustion that Tony actually gave in and allowed himself to be supported by Loki as they tripped and stumbled inside, without even a word of protest.

They probably caused quite a scene to anybody standing below, as the attempted to get off the fire escape and into the warm, lit, _safe_ room. And on the plus side, at least Tony was capable enough to stagger and fall onto his bed, even in his drunken state.

On his way out, after shutting off the lights (Stark had collapsed immediately onto his bed, and fallen asleep shortly thereafter) and locking the door behind him, Loki let out a shaky sigh; talking to Stark that night had affected him more than he cared to admit. For the first time in q long time, it had made him feel uncomfortable, even in his own skin. This was a perfect example of why he never _ever_ liked talking people down.

It wasn't that he had bad conversation skills or anything. In fact, it was quite the contrary; back home when they were little children, the others nicknamed him Silvertongue, as he was always able to come up with quick comebacks for whatever insults they used to hurl at him. Years ago, Loki had been very shy, not wanting to spend time playing soccer or baseball with the other kids. Instead, he preferred to bury his small, greasy, black haired head in a novel, earning him a wide variety of rather creative names. Silvertongue, however, had always been a personal favorite.

No, it wasn't the lack of things to say, or means to say it. It was just that…Loki had never been overly fond of _emotions_. His mother used to tell him that one day, he would make a good psychologist, as he was always told he was very insightful and could read people just as naturally as the volumes ever tucked under his arm.

He liked logic. Facts. Things that could be backed up by truths like science and math until they were proven correct. You were either right, or you were wrong, there was no grey area, no room for misinterpretations. However, emotions, on the other hand, they made people irrational, do insane, crazy things in the name of something, that, the next day, wouldn't mean nearly as much.

You could never dispute the facts of a situation, never get angry at statistics. Never hate a figure. It was just so much simpler. Despite how his slightly more feminine personality came across to people, he was never really one for melodramatics or big gestures. More likely, he was off in a corner working quietly by himself – and it wasn't that he wanted to be. More of that most of the time, he couldn't put up with the fights – the endless roller-coaster of joy and depression that came with any kind of relationship. Really, one should try to avoid such things. It was a rule of his.

However, for every rule there is always an exception.

As he finally arrived back in his own dorm, he quickly glanced around the darkened room for his coat, which he quickly located. It appeared to be lying in a heap on the floor, right next to his roommate Clint's bed.

He bent to pick it up, surprised that Clint was asleep at all. As of late, he was always gone, and when he did occasionally make an appearance staying in for the night, he was up until all hours of the night. Not to mention the fact that it was _Friday_, for Christ's sake, what on earth was he doing –

Oh. _Oh_. Was…was that…how in the living _hell_ did Clint Barton get fucking Natasha Romanoff to sleep with _him_? Shaking his head slightly and filing this new bit of information in the back of his brain for later use, he grabbed his phone and walked quickly (_no_, he did not _run_) back out the door and into the hallway.

His fingers dialed the numbers of their own accord, while his feet carried him away. Loki didn't realize he was holding his breath, until it all rushed out of his lungs at the sound of a familiar "'Lo?"

"Thor. Hello."

"Loki? What is it? What…lord, is it really two fifteen in the morning?"

A quick eyeful of his watch is the almost completely dimmed hallway lights confirmed this. "What? Really? Well, I suppose it is."

"What has happened that has you calling so late?."

"And without even a 'How are you?'. Your lack of patience still astounds me, even though I've been acquainted with it for a very long nineteen years."

"Well, then you should have gotten used to it by now. Anyway, stop changing the subject, I'm waiting on my explanation."

But when he opened his mouth, he found that the events of the past few hours died on his tongue. "I…it has been a very, _very_ long day, brother."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"…no." He curled in on himself, back against the wall, knees tucked up under his chin. A memory of being very small, and being tucked into Thor's side as they watched TV on the couch, under the old plaid blanket suddenly burst, uninvited, into his mind. Somewhere, maybe on his bed, or at the kitchen table chairs, Loki could almost imagine Thor doing the same, even now.

"That's alright. So, how is your school going? Have you met any new friends yet? No? Well, it's okay, they're all just asshats anyways…" Never in Loki's life had he even been more thankful of his brother's ability to read him, even if he was one the other end of an old cell phone, hundreds of miles away. He had also never heard anyone _ever_ use the word asshats before, but that was probably just Thor being Thor. Relaxing against the wall, he finally let his brother's voice, which was rapidly becoming more and more animated at a frightening rate, wash over him and lull him into a (possibly false, but he didn't care) sense of security.

"Thor?" Out of nowhere, he interrupted his brother, somewhere between him chatting on about how good Jane was doing, and how he'd just met the _sweetest_ girl, that Loki should definitely meet when he visited.

"Mmhmm?"

"I just…I love you, that's all."


	3. Chapter 3

_Sit tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time  
Come on just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me  
Good, good now we're making some progress  
Come one just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat  
And I believe this may call for a proper introduction, and well  
Don't you see, I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue?_

_-The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage_

Tony Stark really wasn't having the best of mornings. Really, if he were to rate the worst ways to possibly wake up, with a hangover would have to _at least_ make the top five. Not to mention that when it came to drinking, Tony was no stranger, meaning that sometimes it felt like he woke up with a hangover more often than not.

Despite all of these facts, this particular morning made the current Saturday part of his Top Three Worst Days Ever. And it wasn't even noon.

_The following is a brief overview of the ten reasons why Tony really wishes a freight train would _really_ run him over instead of his head just feeling like it got hit by one._

1. There was an entire percussion section banging out Beethoven's 5th in his head  
2. He woke up alone in bed, which meant that he didn't even have anything to show for all his late night drinking  
3. Upon movement, all the contents of his stomach decided that they really didn't want to be there, and made a speedy exit, causing him to have to rush to the bathroom  
4. He decided (after vomiting several times) that he was definitely not going to move today  
5. Pepper didn't pick up her phone when he called  
6. Really, though, Pepper never, _ever_ didn't pick up, the only reason she wouldn't would be that something was wrong, or she was pissed at him  
7. Which meant that she was probably pissed  
8. And Tony had no idea why  
9. Normally at this point, she would have already called to inform him of why they were no longer speaking, but she hadn't  
10. From this, Tony could only conclude one thing; he was in some _deep shit_ with Pepper Potts  
(Bonus) 11. Despite all the alcohol he had managed to consume last night, he still remembered everything, as if it had been burned into his mind by an iron.

Needless to say, he wanted to rip his mouth off his face, and (somehow) give it a very stern talking-to for getting him into so much trouble.

Guess he might as well add Loki to the list of people to avoid for the entirety of his school career.

Attempting to shake off his nausea, Tony staggered to his feet. No, he didn't _want_ this time to be like all the others; for once, he didn't want his fucking _stupidity to get in the way. _

He didn't want one more person to be on that list. Lord, half the school was already there, and Loki…well, he really didn't seem like that bad of a guy. A little quiet? Maybe. Awkward? You bet, but who wouldn't be in that kind of situation? So, he'd made up his mind, and stumbled a little ineptly away from the toilet.

If someone had asked him later, he wouldn't have been able to put his finger on why he made the decision. Maybe because he was just sick and tired of being despised and written off as a self-centered jerk by anyone and everyone he had ever opened his mouth and talked to. Maybe it was to prove to _himself_ that he wasn't truly a self-centered jerk, and that if someone got to know him, they would find some shred of good inside him, as Pepper had years ago. It was, quite possibly, that he wanted, no, _needed_ to believe that some was capable of giving a shit about him. Perhaps he was just trying to prove, once and for all, that no one ever would, which is why he chose the person least likely to ever find anything worth liking in the empty hollow that was Tony's chest.

Whatever the twisted logic that Tony's head supplied, he somehow managed to convince himself that he should attempt to go find Loki, maybe try to talk to his again. _Who knows,_ a tiny voice in his head supplied, _Maybe he doesn't_ completely_ hate you_.

_Yeah, right_ he answered himself right back.

When Loki had stumbled out of bed at noon the next day, he wanted to cringe. Really, he just seemed to throw himself into these sorts of things. In a vain attempt to clear his head from the turmoil of dialogue and dislodged feeling that stemmed from the previous night, he decided to head to the library to get peace and quiet, and hopefully, God willing, finish his book.

That was his first mistake.

"Rogers!" Tony shouted, albeit just a tad too loudly for the space. "ROGERS! WHERE ARE Y-"

"Tony! _Stop shouting_, for goodness sake! I'm right here." Steve Roger's slightly annoyed face peered out from behind the couch in their dorm room, where he was lying with his sketchpad in hand.

Without so much as a shrug, Tony shook off the complaints from his less-than friendly roommate. They had an odd relationship, Tony and Steve, because Tony knew that however much Steve really and truly wanted to wish death and destruction to rain down upon him (and trust Tony, he had very good reason to), he was absolutely convinced that Steve Rogers was incapable of hating anyone. "Steve, do you know some guy named Lo-something?"

"Do I know what now?"

"Lo- I don't really remember it all that well, I just remember it was really weird. He's about our age, I'd say, and, oh, I don't know, about yay tall," He gestured flamboyantly (to match the rediculious accent he'd put on in the latter part of the sentence) to about the top of Steve's head, which in its own right was several inches higher than Tony's own. "Long black hair? It's a little crazy looking, all over the place,"

Resolutely, he ignored a muttered, _"Like you have room to talk about that."_ and continued on.

"Green eyes, kind of a scary green, actually, now that I think about it."

"Oh! Do you mean Loki? Loki Aesir?"

"Yes!" Tony practically started clapping, and Steve had to hold in a snort. "Loki! That was his name! You wouldn't happen to know where his dorm room is, would you?"

"What? Why do you- I wasn't aware that you even knew that Loki _existed_, which, apparently, you don't. Not really. Besides, you're not going to find him in his dorm room anyway, he's always at the library, besides, he doesn't want-"

"Thanks, Steve-O! I owe you one – or, another, but really, who's counting?" Tony chirped as he disappeared from Steve's view.

"I've told you a million times not to call me that! And, hey, where are you going? _Tony_, I'm telling you, don't go trying to bother Loki, he's really-"

Steve heard the door slam as Tony bolted – presumably to the library.

"…Never mind."

Loki's second mistake was responding. If he hadn't, perhaps Stark would have just gone away, and the whole huge mess that followed would never have had the chance of taking place.

"Loki! Steve said you would be here!"

And really, how could possibly be expected _not_ to snap out a retort at that? Especially as the librarians and the majority of the students were now glaring at him. _He's your friend,_ their eyes said judgmentally, _you control him._

But how do you tell a whole room of angry library-goers, let alone _one_ person, _No, not really, I just found him last night, I want him to be here about as much as you do_, with just your eyes?

Instead, he settled for an apologetic expression in their direction before rounding on the practically _vibrating_ boy (whose ideas was it to give him coffee anyway?!) and hiss at the one who had interrupted him. "Stark! _What are you doing? We're in a library, you fool. At least _attempt_ to keep your voice down._"

"I'm aware. Jesus, I hate libraries, haven't been inside one in years. No, wait, I came here last year. See, there was this librarian with a _killer_ ass-"

"_Stark!_)

"So, Mind if we go outside?" He finished.

Practically bristling, Loki led him outside without another word. Had it been any other place, any other time, he'd have refused and most likely gotten up and left in a huff. But, if nothing else, he didn't feel like having the library staff hate him more than they already probably did.

Not to mention the fact that despite them only having had one other encounter, he got the feeling that Tony wasn't the kind that was able to read people or understand (or care) when he wasn't wanted.

So they set of at a brisk pace around one of the paths that led around campus and followed it through the outdoor reading area.

"Look, I'm really sorry about last night, I just-"

A hand in his face stopped him almost instantly. "No, don't mention it, and by that I mean _seriously_, don't even bring it up within a fifty feet of any place I happen to be."

"Really, I just came to apologize! I just didn't want to make you feel like I was – I don't know, I was using you as my personal shrink or something…"

"I get it. You just needed somebody to listen, and I happened to be the nearest person to you at the time," And _damn it all to hell_, this is exactly why he despised talking to people, the way Stark's face had fallen when he spoke those words, the way he looked as if Loki has slapped him. So obviously, Loki _had_ to open his big mouth and try to fix things. Obviously, it was just burying him deeper in his own obtuse words. "I don't _know_ you, Tony. I don't know you and I just did what anyone else would have done last night; I listened precisely _because_ you needed someone to. That someone just happened to be me this time. It could've just as easily been anyone else, so don't feel like you owe me anything, because you don't. You don't owe me anything, and I sure as hell don't owe you a thing." He could practically see the rays of sunlight shrinking as he disappeared into his hole. "So, _please_, if you want to thank me, the best way to do it is just for you to go back to your life, and for me to stay in mine."

Inside his chest, Loki couldn't pretend to feel just a twinge of guilt at the way the other student took in a shaky breath, seemingly not upset so much as muted disappointment and just a hint of resignation. "I just…I didn't want you to think I was some drunken loser who just spews his life story to anyone who walks by. I just…I didn't want you to hate me for…that. That's not me, I promise, and if you _still_ hate me now, well, that's fine. I just…I…I…"

The pair were almost back at the library doors by then, and Tony couldn't help but feel that he was out of time, as well as out of words.

Many times in his life, Loki had been accused of being heartless, and even he would admit that sometimes (a lot of the time), he did come across as cold and unfeeling. But he wasn't, actually. In fact, he was far from it. The majority of the time, in situations such as this, Loki attempted to distance himself from it. As a stellar liar, sometimes (most of the time) he was able to convince himself that he really _didn't_ care. Now was not one of those times.

Just like on the fire escape, there was something downright, pathetically _sad_ about Tony that he just couldn't get over. Somehow, one could tell just by looking at him that this wasn't another teenager prone to mood swings; Anthony Stark was legitimately miserable, to the point where he had pretty much given up.

Loki hated that.

It was most likely uncalled for on his part, but he despised the fact that Tony, who had practically be handed everything on a silver platter right from birth, thought of himself as being in such a terrible position. Loki told him so.

"That's what everyone tells me," Came the melancholy reply. "That I don't have the _right_ to be sad, because of what they think I have. Now, tell me, am I really such a wealthy man, when it gets to the point where everyone else gets to control what's in my own _head_? Trust me, Loki, between the two of us, you definitely more affluent than I."

"But I had _nothing_, my family still has nothing! I _came_ from nothing-"

"But you're here, aren't you?" Tony said, his voice once again strong, staring Loki directly in the eyes. "That's got to count for something, right? You have to have a whole lot to get you from there all the way to here. I never had that, Loki, I never got the chance. Everything I've even done has always been written off, just because I have _money_. I've always had help, always, even when I don't want it just because of my father. He's the success story in the family, turning nothing into everything. Can't you see?! I'll never get to exceed or even _meet_ expectations, 'cause he already made them all-"

By now, Loki was practically seething, but not necessarily in a frustrating sort of way. It was nice, actually, if he were to think about it. It had been far too long since he'd been able to get into an actually intelligent debate with anyone. "So you throw it all away, every chance you've been given? And because you can't exceed the right expectations, you still manage to blow the wrong ones out of the water? They keep saying 'Well, Tony's already done everything he possible can _wrong_, he's already hit bottom, what more damage is there to be done?' And you prove them wrong. I've got to give you credit for that, Tony, I really do."

Perhaps he had said too much. As quickly as it had materialized, all the fight and the fire extinguished itself from Tony's eyes, and he was back to whispering helplessly to the floor. "What would you know about it? Everyone _hates_ me," Something was building inside Loki, something angry and upset, and now he couldn't distance himself from this, no matter how hard he was pushing, "My father, my best friend, even _you_-" he was already so tangled and invested that he could _not_ just do nothing, he-

"Tony, I don't hate you. I don't think I could, even if I tried. Maybe even if _you tried._"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, you haven't seen me try." Despite the bitter words, the edge of playfulness was back in his voice, hint of a smirk and the smallest flash of his biting wit. Just the barest suggestion of a laugh underneath.

It made his heart feel nearly ten times lighter just hearing it, and damn it if he wanted to hear more, wanted to see Tony Stark's whole fact break in half with a smile, like he knew it could.

Loki took a chance. This was his third mistake.

"As fascinating as this debate is, it's far too early and I would like a coffee. My favorite little café is just a few minutes from here, though. Do you want to finish our little conversation over drinks?"

"Well, if you don't mind, it _is_ way too early for me to even be up…"

"I don't, not at all. In fact, I'd quite enjoy the company."

"What are we standing around here for? My car's in the shop, so if you drive I'll pay."

"Deal."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Text

_We're going down, down in an earlier round  
And Sugar, we're going down swinging  
I'll be your number one with a bullet  
A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it_

_Is this more than you bargained for yet  
Oh don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet  
Wishing to be the friction in your jeans  
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him  
I'm just a notch in your bedpost  
But you're just a line in a song_

-Sugar, We're Goin' Down

A shudder ripped through his spine as the howling wind buffeted his dorm room walls – and it wasn't just because of the chill slowly settling itself into his now dark home. For the past week, the weather had been bitter at best, leaving most of the students hurrying across the campus bundled in as many coats as they could possibly get their hands on. It hadn't snowed quite yet, but everyone was sure it would come eventually, and Lord were they right.

Even as a child, Loki had never been particularly afraid of the things, he and his brother actually used to watch intently out of the apartment's only window as the bits of old paper and litter flew by on the streets below, until their mother shooed them away. Clint was gone; he had left right before their electricity had abruptly cut out, due to the branches on the trees giving up under the weight of all the sudden snow. He sighed; of course, it would be just his luck to have their building loose power. Fucking Barton was probably off snuggling with Romanoff - Loki didn't really want to imagine the alternatives (not that Natasha wasn't beautiful and all, but he'd seen all he wanted to of Clint and needless to say, he was _definitely_ not interested).

Try as he might though , he couldn't shake the twinge in his stomach and the soft voice in his head whispering that he was being abandoned again; unwanted – well, not _completely_ unwanted, there was probably a psychologist somewhere who'd absolutely love to have him.

Unfortunately for him, unlike so many of the others in the building who had already jumped ship, he had no friends in warm, lit dorms. Come to think of it, he didn't really have many (if any) friends at all.

With that though still fresh in his mind, Loki undressed quickly and slid between the icy sheets of his bed, praying that sleep would come to him quickly and without too much trouble.

At some point, everyone is forced to admit defeat. Of course, some hold out longer than others, but eventually, a person simply can't fight any longer. For Loki, this time came between one and two-thirty in the morning, while he could be seen jiggling his feet frantically to keep his icicle toes where they belonged on his feet and not unattached and lying on the floor. Sure, the cold had never really bothered him much, but this was ridiculous.

Without thinking through what he suddenly found himself doing to any extent, he jumped up, seized his coat off its proper hook by the door, hands still trembling, and, shaking like a leaf, made his way down the three flights of stairs and out of the building.

When he actually got outside, the sleep deprived teen registered blandly that a vantage point though a dusty old window hardly did this blizzard justice, because that was what it was. Ice crystals pelted his exposed face, ripping and tearing at his hair, and sending it into instantaneous disarray. He hardly even realized where he was headed until he knocked on the front door; room 47 on the second floor, the room number he had taken to memory just after the other had told him casually all those afternoons ago.

Loki couldn't help the shame that flooded to his face when he saw Tony Stark's wild-eyed head, complete with the most ridiculous hair he'd ever seen poke around the door frame.

"Well if it isn't my favorite sociopath!" He rasped, his voice still rough from sleep. Without waiting for an answer or a reply from the quaking student on his doorstep, he flung the door open to reveal himself, standing there with a blatantly unabashed expression, despite the fact that he was completely exposed, save for a pair of very thin, very worn, boxer shorts. Loki couldn't help it; he blushed spectacularly. "How are you doing this fine and fabulous evening Loki?"

"Save it, Stark," The other snapped, pushing past Tony and into his dorm room with a huff and a flurry of droplets.

"Whoa, I think you're forgetting whose room this is buddy. I don't think I really understand why you're here, but under certain…conditions I may be able to be persuaded to let you stay." He leaned in, so close in fact that Loki could smell the drink on his breath as he practically leered over him.

A sleepy groan suddenly sounded from one of the two beds, and Tony's head snapped back around towards the noise, blessedly shifting away from his own, while Loki tensed. "Tony…wassamatter? S'late…'n did I hear someone at the door?"

"Steve," He could have almost laughed. With Stark, he always seemed to suspect the worst, and really, it could have been much, _much_ worse than Tony's dorm mate. The mountain of blankets on the bed seemed to writhe for a moment, before muscular limbs managed to disentangle themselves from the carnage, and a sleepy face popped up.

"Oh, it's just Loki, don't worry." Somehow still grinning wolfishly, Tony pulled Loki's frigid body close and displayed his proudly for the other to see. An incoherent mumble was all his response seemed to justify and before long, they heard the his breath deepen and slow back to the distinct pattern of sleep. "Well, that was anticlimactic."

Now that Steve was again mollified, Loki again found himself face-to-face with what had to be the most annoying man on the entire _planet_, and unluckily for him, Loki wasn't enjoying his routine any more the second time around. "Stop being such a creep, you know that's not why I'm here. All the power's out in buildings one and two."

"Oh, but that doesn't mean you don't want it. Admit it, Aesir, I'm damn sexy."

"Oh, do _please_ shut up, you narcissistic bastard."

"You're the one going around and knocking on people's dorm room doors in the middle of the night, if you ask me, that sounds a little bit…mmm, I don't know..." Without even completing his thought, Tony playfully made to pull Loki even closer. To his surprise, he not only resisted but immediately moved away around the sofa.

"Get away from me, Stark. Really, I'm not in the mood to deal with your childish antics tonight!"

"Loki, I-"

"No, really! I came here because the power went out hours ago in my building, and it's fucking freezing in there! Trust me, I didn't come over here willingly, I just thought that-" He laughed, mirthlessly, interrupting his own sentence. "You know what? Forget it. Just forget it. I'll go back and freeze. I'd rather go anywhere then spend the night here with you."

He'd managed to wake Steve up again, now both he and Tony were staring at Loki with almost comically matching looks of surprise, their mouths shaped in almost perfectly round 'O's.

"B-but I can't," Voice suddenly subdued, the teenager now dripping with ice water flinched as he heard his own voice tremble and break. And really, cut him some slack, it had been a long and very miserable night, and this was the last thing he thought he'd have to deal with, on top of the already obvious humiliation of having to actually ask this boy he barely knew for help. "I had – have – nowhere else to go. If I did, I'd be there."

"Hey…hey, it's okay," Tony seemed, for once, momentarily stunned at the other's sudden outburst, and when he spoke next, his voice held a gentleness that he normally didn't allow to bleed through and into his words. "I didn't mean anything by it. If it makes you feel better, you can certainly stay on our couch until the power's fixed."

"Th-thank you," Drawing himself up, Loki clutched at the tattered remains of his dignity, which lasted all of about five seconds before he realized that he had neglected to bring any of his belongings. "Oh, _damn it all._"

"No big deal." Tony added, as if able to read the thoughts circling the insides of Loki's brain. "I have some blankets and stuff. We'll most likely not have any classes tomorrow, as most of the power is still down and it's far past the middle of the night, so you can just gather your things tomorrow. Really, it's not a problem, and like I said, you're welcome to stay until you're room has heat. Wouldn't want you to lose your lovely complexion, now would we?" Feeling vaguely self-conscious as he felt, rather than saw, the two pairs of eyes staring at him, he lifted one hand to absentmindedly touch his almost snow-white cheek.

Before he knew it, he was curled on the cramped couch, finally and blessedly warm, and actually starting to feel a little sleepy. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, however, a whispered voice from the bed jolted him momentarily out of the snug, happy place in his head. "Pleasant dreams, Loki."

He didn't even get a chance to respond before he felt himself drifting away again.

_"Oh _Christ_, Loki," Tony panted, pupils blown wide with lust and want, his hands trailing patterns and paths up the taller teen's sides, pausing on his shoulders to pull him closer and attached his warm, wet, slippery mouth right underneath his jaw. The action just about near ripped a low moan from his throat, and his hips bucked unintentionally at the motion. "Fucking _Christ_." He groaned, loud and feverish and way over the top, as if the pair were acting in a cheap adult entertainment film._

_"What? What is it?" He managed through soft gasps, straining against himself to arch up into Tony's hands. _

_"I want you." The words came in the form of a barely audible breath in his ear, and monumentally unprepared didn't even begin to cover it. _

_"_F-f-fuck_, Tony…"_

_Suddenly, without warning, Tony ducked down, scattering small bites and nibbles down his torso as he went. He paused at the bottom, seeming to like the sight of Loki breathes and overwhelmed as red marks bloomed like flowers across the white canvas. With a slight pause, he started up again, but this time, he went much slower, to the point where Loki felt he was just teasing him. Letting out another probably very embarrassing noise – he was too far gone to really _care_, however, - Loki tug his fingers deep into the other's hair, practically ripping it out. _

_Finally, Tony seemed to think he'd suffered enough, and ducked down, taking Loki's now weeping member completely into his mouth without hesitation, immediately beginning to move in time to the rhythm of his partner's hips. _

_And suddenly. Oh dear _Lord_. Loki hissed a stream of profanities, littered with the occasional, "Fuck, _Tony_," as Tony got increasingly more creative with that fucking pornographic mouth. _

_From there it was all a slideshow of quick moments, each one dirtier and more obscene than the last and full of the absolutely degrading noises that were now spilling from Loki's mouth. _

_Loki getting a firmer grasp on the stands of hair clutched in his clenched fists, arching up completely and letting Tony snake his body over his own. _

_Tony swirling his tongue around the other's tip, then surging back forward as if he had absolutely no gag reflex. _

_Reverberant shudders passing through his body that left him positively twitching with desire._

_Not to mention a certain body part that was more than excited about the amount of attention it was receiving, but was rapidly reaching its limit. _

_With one final intense spasm, his body jerked upward and out of his control, extricating a final drawn out cry from him as he climaxed…_

Loki gasped, one hand over his chest as he attempted in vain to catch his breath. Honestly, he couldn't believe that that had just happened. Under the covers, the sticky mess in his pants was now being to cool, becoming slightly uncomfortable. Damn Tony Stark and that sexed-up drone of his.

No, he had not just had a fucking _we dream_ like a hormonal middle school boy over a guy he barely knew (a very pretty one, his mind added, rather unhelpfully. You can use your imagination to figure out exactly _how_ Loki told it to stuff it). That was out of the question. No, he was simply wired from the chaos of the night, and naturally, his body was looking for some way to relieve tension. That was all it was, just a physical manifestation of his stress.

Oh God. What was he going to _do_? He was going to have to face Tony tomorrow morning and pretend like he didn't just imagine him sucking his –

It was with a downright humiliated air that Loki realized he was _getting hard again_.

And because getting himself off in Tony's own dorm was completely unacceptable, he forced himself to think other, much less sexy thoughts. Besides, he very nearly couldn't bear to even think about any of this at all right then. He knew he should, he should most certainly consider what this meant, what it could possibly mean about him, but he just couldn't. Not tonight, at almost four in the morning, having slept little more than an hour.

He used his exhaustion as an excuse, because he didn't want to think about that _other_ option, the one he'd had since birth. The one that told him maybe his sex drive wasn't completely dead and virtually non-existent; perhaps he was just looking in the wrong places for it, and if that were true…

_No one_ could know. Not his mother, not his father, not even his brother, who he shared almost everything with, and certainly not Howard Stark's son, who he'd practically just met, and who was rather…_unabashed_ about his own sexuality.

No, for now the dream, and especially it's possible…deeper meaning (Loki still wasn't convinced that it even had one) was nobody's business but his own. And with that thought in mind, he settled back into the blankets the older student had offered hours before, and tried again to find some kind of peace, knowing that he was going to ultimately fail.


	5. Chapter 5

_I never said we was equal  
I never wished to be saved  
If I'm a problem then preach on  
Let's dig a little grave_

_Some people die just a little  
Sometimes you die by the drop  
Some people die in the middle  
I live just fine on the top_

-Die By The Drop

It was unusually warm for a February night, even a patented New England (almost) spring night. But despite the nice weather, Tony was seriously regretting his decision to venture out. However, it was a Friday night, and it didn't matter if there was an earthquake going on outside, Tony Stark never missed an opportunity to go out partying.

This particular night, he had decided to go out a couple of his old, well, he wasn't sure if _buddies_ would be the right word; but they had gone to High School together, and tonight he just needed to unwind. He needed people that wouldn't glare when he asked for a sixth shot in a voice so slurred, he probably shouldn't have gotten away with drinking five already. The student just wasn't used to school being so _stressful_. If it always had been like this, he sure as hell didn't remember it. For once in his life, however, he was actually studying, paying attention - you know, school type things like those. Sure, he still blew off class every now and again, but who didn't? Tony's teachers were amazed; papers being turned in on time, no more (well, not _as much_) sleeping in class? Who was he and what had he done with the _real_ Tony Stark?

Truth is, he didn't really know.

That question had a pretty easy answer, however, and its name (or; his name) was Loki. To their (Tony's) embarrassment, even the teachers had noticed the links between their sudden friendship and the increase in attentiveness.

He wasn't stupid, he'd heard the rumors circling around. _"I can hardly believe it!"_ He'd hear as he passed by his professors chatting (gossiping in the hallways. _"Not a single vulgar comment from Stark this week! Personal record, you know."_

_"Well, yes, of course, but you know Frank, it's Loki. Yes, yes, I know! I thought the same thing, but he's such a dear, says good morning to me every day with a smile, so polite…It's good for Stark, spending time with someone like that."_

It was done of their damn business anyway.

Although Tony had vowed never to give in to Loki's 'blackmail' (_"They're called _disappointed looks_, Tony, surely you must've seen plenty of those by now."_) He'd still, for some reason, done all that the more studious student had asked, save for just a few of his old habits, many of which Loki actually didn't mind him keeping around all that much. After all, Tony Stark was nothing if not dangerously reckless with a slight edge of downright stupidity, bordering on manic, which some days seemed pretty damn close to clinically insane.

He'd never been a fan of the drinking, though. In fact, if anyone had ever asked, he'd have told them, that unlike so many others who seemed to think Tony required a full personality makeover to come even close to tolerable, the quiet student liked him just the way he was, save for the alcoholism. Not that anyone ever called it that, if it was to, and often did, come up in conversation though. They all danced like foolish ballerina's on little strings; not for Tony, but for his father, the all-powerful CEO of Stark corp. They couldn't have the media picking up that there was a problem, now could they; for the media danced for no one, not even (especially not) the prestigious Starks.

On nights like these, Tony wondered, inside of his own personal little bubble of drunken haziness, cut off from the rest of the world, if his only remaining friend was right, and he just never acknowledged it (it was a bit pathetic – even he would admit; Loki Aesir as your only friend? Nothing else could scream 'desperate' like it). Not that he minded, or came even _close_ to caring – when had he ever cared what anyone else thought of him? Besides, at the end of the day, he still had the most amazing friend in the world and they were still shallow bastards; they were probably just jealous.

"'Ey, Johnny," He slurred, already completely intoxicated, as the other man stumbled over, and attempted to scream over the music of the house party already in full swing.

"Hey, Tony, it's getting late and I think I'm going to head, I have shit to do tomorrow, and Brian, being the bastard that he is, already hooked up with some chick upstairs. I think Zacky and Bri are going to stay a little while longer though. Whatever you do, just make sure you have a ride back tonight. I know we've all been drinking, but you're completely hammered, man. I just don't want you driving like this – and no, don't tell me you've done it before. Just remember to hail a cab or something, okay dude?" As casual as this little speech may have come off to anyone who happened to be listening in, Johnny was serious. He, Zacky, Brian, and Jimmy hadn't seen much of Tony since High School, but over the course of the night, he was slowly becoming increasingly worried about him. He trusted him though, despite everything else, and he believed that Tony would be able to take care of himself for at the most another couple hours.

"Sure thing, man. But really," Johnny had to lean in to hear; Tony's voice was even more garbled and incoherent than usual. "M'fine. I could drive back fine. I'm a good driver Johnny, right? I'm the driver. I drive." Looking his over with raised eyebrows that shot even higher when an out of place giggle spilled from the other man's lips, Johnny just nodded in an attempt to appease.

"Alright, sure, whatever you want. I'll see you soon, 'kay?" Without bothering to wait for a response he knew he wasn't going to receive, Johnny set off in search of Jimmy and, hopefully, some peace and quiet away from the bass that was reverberating through his bones.

He stumbled, not knowing what was going on. The colors of the lights flashing in his eyes were swirling around in his head, mixing with each other and leaving faint acid trails behind them. As he wobbled, trying to right himself, the bright spots lurched sickeningly as the floor drew closer.

_Ugh, my stomach._

He needed to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the more the pounding resonating from the base of his skull was becoming more obvious. Staggering up the stairs and out the front door of the house, he clung to the doorframe, trying to keep the world from spinning quite so fast as he scanned the driveway frantically for his car.

And then –

Shit.

_Shit._

Tony hadn't driven them to the party. That unfortunate job had went to _Zacky_, meaning that...well, for lack of better words, it meant that he was pretty much 100% completely screwed. Not even an hour ago, Brian had informed him that he and Zack were getting a ride home with one of their friends, meaning their car would be here, but they most certainly would not.

And hey, would you look at that? There was their car, an ugly old red Toyota sitting at the base of the driveway, right where it connected with the street.

Tony was really not in the best of places right now mind-wise, so his obvious first thought was to attempt to break into the other's car. Unfortunately, it's rather difficult to hot-wire a car when you're intoxicated beyond the point of coherent thought, and Tony figured that the owners of the house would appreciate the front side of their house going up in flames just as much as Zacky would love to find out that his car now had irreversible damage because Tony hadn't wanted to call a cab company. He was drunk, not mentally handicapped (although with him, it could be argued that the two pretty much panned out to being the same thing), and so Tony reached for his phone, grimacing when the numbers seemed to jump and twitch, leaving him unable to dial anything correctly.

Somehow maneuvering his fingers on the screen he pressed _Contacts_, and clicked the first name on the list; _Aesir_

Despite the late hour, Loki was actually still wide awake. Having just finished studying, he couldn't be bothered to clean up the pile of books and notes strewn all across the wooden top of his and Clint's (although Clint really wasn't known for his good study habits) desk.

It was actually a testament to how tired he was that he _didn't_ attempt to drag himself out of bed and tidy up. But he had two major exams the next day that he had needed to study for, and all that studying wasn't going to do him much good if he had to take the tests while half asleep. Almost as soon as he'd managed to get comfortable, burrowing into the sheets and wrapping himself with their warmth, he began to drift, his eyes closing gently.

Then his phone began to buzz on his bedside table.

Groaning, he jammed several of his pillows over his head and ears, in a valid attempt to try and pretend he didn't hear the sound like angry bees in his ear. Finally, with an annoyed huff, he gave in, snatching up the device and stabbing 'answer' with a little more force than was strictly called for.

"Hello? Tony, what the fuck are you doing? It's the middle of the goddamn night, go back to sleep." And really, Loki used to be so very articulate; he never cursed. Well, that was before he met Tony, the man who someone managed to get under his skin in every single way possible – and even some ways he didn't actually believe to be possible. Loki almost couldn't spend _enough_ time with him. Not that he would ever tell that to Tony; his ego was inflated enough as it was.

"Hey Loki," A voice slurred from the other line, practically indistinguishable. "M' here, and I don't have my car, and Zacky isn't here. C-could you-" he hiccupped and when he continued, Loki could have sworn he heard a hint of a tremble in his voice, but he passed it off as a bad cellphone connection – after all, who could even begin to guess at where the other student was? "-m-maybe come 'n just drop me my car?"

"But you said you had a ride back tonight!"

"I _d-did_ but the f-fuckers just left me 'ere!"

"Tony," This time he was sure he didn't imagine it, the quaking on the other end of the line was definitely becoming more prominent. "Are you shaking?"

"It's c-cold outside, okay?"

"No, it's not, that would be the excessive amount of alcohol you've consumed tonight raging through your veins."

"Or," He snapped, "It's just the fucking cold-ass weather." Loki rolled his eyes to himself.

He knew he should be incredibly annoyed by Tony at the moment. Hell, if he wanted to, he had a completely valid to just hang up and ignore his friend. Really, it would probably be for the best, Tony had gotten himself into this, and Tony would just have to get himself back out. You know, it builds character or something. Who knew, it might even be good for him, and Tony needed a good friend right now, someone to do the hard things for his own good.

"Okay, okay. Calm down, I'll come and get you. Do you know where you are? A house number or something would be nice." Like the chance of him hanging up ever had a chance in hell to begin with.

"Or, _it's just the fucking cold-ass weather!_" Even to him, his own voice sounded pathetic, no wonder Loki was so fed up. There was complete silence on the other line. For one horrible second, Tony actually believed that Loki had hung up and left him there, all by himself. _Serve you fucking right._ His own make believe version of his green eyed companion snarked bitchily, intruding on his thoughts. But then-

"Okay, okay. Calm down, I'll come and get you." Surprisingly, his words had a soft and comforting undertone that he normally reserved for anyone that was either a) a girl b) having a nervous breakdown or, most importantly c) anyone who was not Tony. "Do you know where you are? A house number or something would be nice."

"Umm," Fumbling in the dark with his phone, He finally perked up when he spotted the corner of a street sign, a few letters just barely visible, as his beam granted him a very limited line of vision. "I believe it's…yes, 52 Herrington Road. In Cambridge. " He added, rather unhelpfully.

"_Cambridge?_ How in the hell did you end up in Cambridge? Really, how you're not dead on a street yes is absolutely beyond me…" Tony tuned him out. He could hear the familiar background noises of Loki gathering up his keys of the hook, the rasp of the doorknob against the wood. When he caught the sound of an old engine spluttering to life, he let himself fall against the siding of the house and relax for the first time that night.

When Loki pulled up to the address Tony had given him, it was obvious that the party had started winding down a long time ago. The only people left at this point were just some stragglers and what appeared to be a few pairs of people that would be spending the night – not that it was unusual for Tony to stay until the very end anyway.

However, when he pulled up, he didn't see Tony anywhere. Perhaps he was inside? But no; when Loki stepped out of his car, it was to find his friend propped up against the siding, head lolling to one side as his whole body drooped like a wilting flower. If the sight wasn't so downright sad, the fact that he had just compared Stark to a _flower_ would have been downright _hilarious_ and might have laughed. As it was, he accidently allowed a small giggle to escape his lips.

"Come on," Poking the smaller man to rouse him, he took advantage of Tony's momentary confusion to haul him up by his elbow. "It's late, I have exams tomorrow. Come to think of it – you probably do too, so let's just get you home."

"I… wha-? I didn't. Loki, I-I…you know" In his current state, he seemed to be unable to fight the waves of sleep threatening to overwhelm him.

"Shh, you're not making any _sense_. You're tired, I'm fucking _exhausted_, let's just _go_." Without waiting for an answer, he threw Tony's arm over his shoulders so that he was supporting most of the weight – he didn't even need to see him attempt to walk to know that he wouldn't be able to make it to the car.

Loki knew it was horrible of him to be annoyed at Tony for being so checked out, but he was. He didn't _need_ to go out drinking, he should have just stayed in. And when the _hell_ did he become first on the 'People to pick Tony up when he's absolutely piss-drunk and can't stand' list? Not to mention that Tony was still apparently trying to make conversation with himself, and really, Loki hoped that he wasn't supposed to be responding or anything, because Tony might as well have been speaking Latin for all Loki was getting out of the disjointed phrases.

"Please, just…don't. It's not helping. You're practically sleep-talking."

"S'just me, Loki. S'just me. M' not doing anything else."

"I know you're not doing anything else, I understand this is just what you do. Doesn't mean I have to like it!"

"S' me."

"I get it," Patience finally reaching the breaking point, the sober one laughed mirthlessly. "It's just you. And you don't change. Not for anything, or anybody. Not even for yourself. Can't you see what you're doing?!"

Silence.

No, of course he couldn't.

Loki drove on, the silent blackness pressing in on all sides suddenly seeming much, much too loud.


	6. Chapter 6

_Where do we go from here?  
The words are coming out all weird  
Where are you now, when I need you  
Alone on an aeroplane  
Fall asleep on against the window pane  
My blood will thicken_

_I need to wash myself again to hide all the dirt and pain  
'Cause I'd be scared that there's nothing underneath  
But who are my real friends?  
Have they all got the bends?  
Am I really sinking this low?_

-The Bends

"Hey Steve, is Tony around?"

"Nope. Sorry, but he headed down to the labs a few hours ago. Said he had something he needed to work on, or something. If you'd like, I could call him, not that I think he'd actually pick up, but…"

"No, that's okay," Loki answered with an easy smile. The awkwardness had long since subsided between him and Steve, possibly a side effect of waiting for Tony one too many times in his and Steve's dorm room. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

"Share the joke?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just something stupid I was thinking about. Anyway, I'm going to go down to the labs, see if I can find him. If not, well, you're _almost_ as good."

"Oh, gee _thanks_."

"Anytime."

"Tony? _Tony?_ Oh, _Goddammit_, are you down here?"

While he was working, Tony had always had a tendency to zone out; to completely ignore what was going on around him (almost definitely a byproduct of growing up in a house where the doorbell was constantly ringing and the sound of conversation was always audible). So when Loki came down into the laboratory calling for him, he didn't respond right away.

That is, until he heard a thud followed by several loud clangs and crashes and a noisy cry of "Aauggh!"

"Loki! Are you alright?" Turning to check on his friend, he found himself instantly wishing he had taken the time to make the place less of a mine field. The lights that normally shown in the hallway that led down to the basement where the labs were built were off, or, most likely, never turned on in the first place when he had come down, leaving the poor unsuspecting students who came hurrying down the stairs in mortal peril.

In a flash, he jumped out of his chair as if burned, rushing towards his fallen friend. "Um, _ouch_." He muttered sarcastically on the floor as Tony bent over him.

"You okay? That sounded like it hurt, man."

"Yeah, yeah…it's this fucking shelving unit. I couldn't see and I slipped on something, so-"

"So you reach out and grabbed the shelf," Mentally, the engineer face-palmed at the failure. _Only Loki._ He thought affectionately to himself.

Wait.

Affectionately? No, bad choice of words on his part. More…fondly, or better yet – good-naturally.

"Here, c'mon, let's get you – Oh,_shit_, your foot…here-" The foot in question was, in fact, well and thoroughly trapped. The heavy tools that lived on top of the shelf had obviously gone crashing to the ground with the wood and one particularly large machine (and really – Tony was _Tony_, and even _he_ didn't know what the thing did) had landed right on Loki's ankle.

Removing the useless hunk of metal turned out to be a more than arduous process, involving a lot of pained groans, gasps, and "No no nononono get it _off_, dammit!"

"Okay, okay," Tony panted, after the third time this had happened. "Here, I'm going to pick this part up," He gestured to the lighter end, which rested higher up towards his thigh. "And then you can slide your-"

"Aughh!"

"_Shit_, sorry!"

"Tony?" Bruce's concerned face appeared in the doorway. Bruce was a friend of Steve's (but then again, who wasn't?) and had _somehow_ convinced Tony through what was probably illegal black magic (guilt) to share a lab with him under the guise of 'he's a good guy and a good friend'. "I was heading down here anyway and on the way down I the heard yelling, what happened?"

"Thank God," Loki gasped from the floor, and despite their current predicament, Tony still managed to shoot him a glare, to which Loki replied by scowling back with rather – in Tony 's opinion – unnecessary force. "Tony, if I have to go to the doctor for this, I'm _so_ suing your ass. I'm broke enough as it is."

"I'm really, _really_ sorry, I know you're still pissed, but…"

_It wasn't your fault, it was a loose screw._ He wanted to say. _You don't need to apologize._ Instead, what came out way. "Just…just shut up, Tony, I'm tired." Loki said, moaning like the true bitch he was, the blanket curled around his shoulders. Tony tugged at it playfully.

"Awww, don't be mean,"

"Sorry it's just…it hurts, and-"

"Nah, I totally understand. Trust me, don't worry 'bout it," The odd pair sat in silence for a few moments, watching the movie that one of them had put on absentmindedly when they'd gotten back to Tony's dorm. It had long since grown dark outside, the only remaining light source being the green-tinted light filtering out of the small screen. Loki's face looked sickly and emaciated, the green light was far from flattering, and the odd angle threw the circles under him eyes and his cheekbones into sharp contrast. His troublesome left ankle, sat propped up innocently against the pillows at the end out the couch as Loki lay across it, head practically in Tony's lap as the other balanced dangerously on the remaining space.

Who would have known that such a small appendage could cause so much trouble?

Sitting back, he nudged the almost motionless figure next to his knee. "It's been a long day, Loki," He murmured softly.

"I know, and I _am_ sorry."

"Not your fault." Once he and Bruce had managed to free Loki from the confines of the machinery, a trip to the doctor's office had certainly been in order.

Which had led to a trip to the hospital, naturally. Fast-forward several hours and Tony was waiting anxiously in the sterile lobby, watching as the minutes slowly crawled by as he awaited news about his friend's condition. Although they had driven to the hospital together, Bruce had left hours ago, saying he had to go to work later that evening. The two of them had been dismissed by the doctor's shortly before them.

Despite the orders, however, Tony had stayed. He knew what it was like, being in a hospital. Knew that it could be frightening…there was just this air of sadness around the place, and he didn't want Loki to be alone like he had been before, before Pepper.

Yet again, they'd had an interesting ride home. Loki was given some –what must have been- excellent painkillers at the hospital when they'd to realign the bones in his ankle (and Tony wasn't particularly squeamish, but really, _ew_), which had left him more than a little bit woozy. But if the look on his face was anything to go on, they seemed to be wearing off.

He blinked as the waves of pain and exhaustion washing over him grew in both frequency and intensity. Loki was not liking this _at all_. Obviously noticing the look on his face, Tony grimaced along with him.

"Hey," He said gruffly, eyes shifting down as he held out one arm, extending it towards him. Loki surveyed him with one brow raised. "C'mere."

For a brief second, Loki let his heart throb at how much this simple gesture reminded him of Thor. The retort was already on his lips, ready to make itself known when...

Instead, he peeled himself up and shuffled over awkwardly, all arms and long, limber legs, giving Tony space on the couch and curling up into his outstretched arms, and he was right; it was more comfortable. It seemed like less than a minute had even passed before Loki's eyes started getting heavier and heavier, the world past his lids becoming blurry and dark.

He curled a little tighter in on himself and let out a soft sigh.

Loki's breath ghosted across Tony's neck, and he shivered uncomfortably. No matter what he may have led Loki to believe with his actions, he really hated people in his personal space, hated the way they always touched him. But this…this was nice. He felt a warmth trickling into his veins and through his limbs, until he was relaxed into the cushions, holding the now sleeping man tight against his chest.

Maybe it was a result of the lateness of the hour, but everything seemed to be moving in almost a dream-like state, and for once, Tony didn't think about what he was doing. He didn't think about what would come tomorrow or the next day, or what anything meant, the reckless man just sat there, holding his best friend, because that's what he needed right then, in that moment.

That was how the time passed; moment by moment, each one slipping by, cool calm liquid gently dripping between is fingers and into the abyss of space, never to be seen or heard from again. Before he knew it, Tony's thoughts began to clump and condense, sticking to each other, until they drifted off into fanciful stories, full of ideas and puzzles and he was dreaming.

"What are you doing?" Steve's look was accusing, which was a little unusual for him, and worried, which was not.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tony's hair stuck up at ridiculous angles, his t-shirt so rumpled and stained that it made the blonde wrinkle his nose at the idea of somebody _living_ that.

"_Tony_,"

"_What?_" Stalking over to the fridge, he ripped open the door and fumbled around for a few moments before finally extracting the carton of milk. "I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't do anything. Loki had a terrible day, and it was at least _partly_ my fault, I wasn't about to wake him up and kick him out when clearly needed the sleep. You've never complained before. Look, if you want, I can just-"

"You know that's not what I mean. Come on, don't do this to yourself again."

"_Do what,_ exactly? That whole thing with Pepper was not my fault, okay?"

"_Please,_ Tony, I can't stand to watch this again. Why do you have to be so self-destructive? We all know where this is going, please just save yourself the-"

"That _what_, exactly?" Rounding on his friend and brandishing one finger, Tony looked like a madman standing there, hair looking electrocuted beyond the point of cooked, face in the three-quarter lighting looking pinched and gaunt. For a moment, Steve was legitimately frightened. "The fucking _depression_? The _pain_? Grief? Or, let me guess, the _heartbreak_? What kind of soap opera do you think I'm living? I'm pretty sure Loki doesn't even lean that way, and even if he did, he's too good a friend. Friends don't make good boyfriends, Stevie, you'd do good to remember that." His performance would have been completely faultless if not for the bitterness inflicted on the last few words. They were too hard, to calloused. They sounded like they throbbed coming out of his mouth, all lines and sharp angles poking and prodding at his insides. Making him bleed. "Besides, I'll be okay, I always am." Suddenly, Steve couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less than fight with Tony. A small tired noise escaped out of the back of his throat before he could stop it. Dropping his face into his hands and running them through his once-neat hair. "I'll be okay, I know what I'm doing." He repeated, and this time, Steve wondered; who was Tony trying to convince; Steve or himself?

"I'm always okay."


	7. Chapter 7

_Picture yourself in a boat on a river,  
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.  
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,  
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes_

_Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,  
Towering over your head.  
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,  
And she's gone_

-Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds

For the first time in a very long time, Loki felt almost completely relaxed; thank God for Christmas, really. His family put just a little more stock in religion than he cared to admit, and so, as far back as he could remember, his earliest memories were of him and Thor, being frog-marched in tiny little suits out the door and into church before they'd even had time enough to fight over who got to open presents first. Not that there wasn't any fighting that morning; church generally consisted in them poking and prodding at each other with increasing gusto until their mother had to force them apart with an indignant hiss. But not this year. No, this year for Christmas all he wanted was a break. No classes to worry about meant no mountains of papers to write, no all-night study marathons, and _finally_ just some peace and –

A resounding crash, quickly followed by a stream of curses broke through any semblance of peaceful thought. Instantly, Loki was on his feet, charging into the kitchen, prepared to face whatever horrors his idiot brother had concocted. As he rounded the corner, skidding almost comically through the doorway, words of reproach already on his lips; after all, what the hell was _Thor_ doing with pots and pan in the kitchen this early anyway? Surely he couldn't be cooking.

Oh.

_Oh._

There, amid the remains of what appeared to be leftover _Chinese food cartons_, for Christ sake (and really, where did those come from? Late dinner? Somebody's unfortunate _breakfast_? Loki really just didn't want to know), dishes from the previous night, a spilled glass of some yet-to-be-determined liquid were none other than Thor and Jane.

"Oh _God_." Loki choked, still only half-believing his wakefulness. A strangled mix of 'Sorry!' (Jane), 'Come on!'(Thor), and 'L-Loki!' left the now red faced pair as the quickly disentangled themselves, Jane hopping quickly off the counter as Thor subtly shifted so that he was purposely standing _behind_ the table.

There, on the floor lay the incrementing pot itself, looking innocent. Loki glared at it.

Somewhat awkwardly, which, okay, was a little understandable given his current position, Thor cleared his throat, "G-good morning, brother! Jane was merely coming by to wish me a merry Christmas-"

"Well, _yes_, I can see that very clearly, now if you'll please excuse me, it really is very early, and I'm going back to bed."

And with that, he strode back into his bedroom with as much dignity as a scrawny college kid in nothing but a tank top (a _tank top_) and boxes who has just walked in on his brother having fucking _sex_ on the same surfaces that they prepared their food on can have.

"Brother,"

"Look Thor," Loki turned, one brow already raised as he turned to glance at his now – thankfully – clothed brother. "I just…I'm sorry, but that's as far as I think this conversation really needs to go. Let's just promise not to speak of this again, and I'll be on my way."

Anybody else's brother, no, _correction_, _anyone else placed in this situation_ would have been _more_ than pleased to just drop it, but, Loki thought slightly bitterly, Thor had never exactly been like everyone else. Built like a tank, with a personality of a golden retriever; he was practically a contradiction to begin with. "Where are you going?"

_Of course he would ask._"Out," He replied vaguely, flapping his wrist limply in a gesture that could have meant, _Oh, just to the store,_ or, _None of your effing beeswax_.

"Well, _yes_, but _where_?"

"Around."

"Around where?"

"You know, town, stores, library, that sort of thing."

"It's Christmas. And it's a Sunday."

Oh. Right. "Something will probably be open, it's a nice day…"

"We've just gotten our third and fourth feet of snow this morning."

"God _damn_ it, Thor!" His mask fell away and he glared at the older with as much venom and annoyance he could muster while at the same time focus on not blushing like a girl, because really, he was just outwitted by _Thor_.

"Look," Loki began again, attempting to compose himself, letting the easy look slip back naturally onto his face. "I'm just going out to see a friend, okay? They're visiting from out of town and-"

"A 'friend' came down on _Christmas_ to visit you?" The blonde, bushy eyebrows almost disappeared under the mane of hair. "Why didn't you say something? Loki, I would have thought you would have told me that you had a girlfriend."

"No! Brother, you are mistaken-"

"It's about time," He boomed, clapping the slighter of the two roughly on the back, causing his knees to buckle in an almost cartoonish way. "You have been alone for far too long, I was beginning to fear that you weren't going to turn out alright after all," Joked Thor, hauling his brother deftly up, while somehow completely missing the look that he shot him.

"Nice to know you all have so much faith in me," Loki's teeth were gritted, and for some reason, he felt a little insulted at the comment. "What's wrong with not having a girlfriend?"

"Mother and father were beginning to fear that you had a...well, a different sort of friend, one might say."

"Yes, well, if you're _quite_ finished, I'll be leaving now."

"Don't come back too early."

With a roll of his eyes, Loki just walked hurriedly out the door before his bother could glimpse the look on his face.

"Oh, darling, how I've missed you so!"

"Can it, Tony"

With a saucy wink, Tony slung his arm around Loki's shoulders, pressing a smacking kiss to his cheek.

Together, the pair of figures began to walk together down the desolate, snow covered street, the only noise being that of the occasional car tossing sleet in their direction.

"What are you even doing here?" Asked Loki, slightly bemusedly. Tony, who was now visibly trembling, had obviously not packed for the weather. A thin, grey sweatshirt and his usual t-shirt were presumably the only things protecting his bare skin from the elements.

"My father was in Malibu this week, and you were the only excuse I could think of to get out of there."

"I take it your Christmas wasn't exactly merry, then?"

"Not exactly," The dry, humorless laugh that emerged from Tony's throat at the comment was the last thing he had hoped to achieve. "Doesn't matter though. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'd much rather be here with you."

And suddenly – something just clicked. Loki saw himself standing there, and he saw Tony, the ugly expression slowly melting off his face, replaced with something more gentle. He saw himself laughing, as Tony leaned over and grabbed his hand, face tinged pink from the wind, teeth biting into his bottom lip.

There were snowflakes on his eyelashes and his hair, which, as always, looked completely and ridiculously out of place under his stupid beanie hat. He blinked away the snow agitatedly, causing his irises to contract when they were again exposed the harsh light filtering through the grey blankets of clouds.

He suddenly saw Tony differently, but still exactly the same as he always _had_ been to Loki; he was attractive. Not in the _Oh my God, he's so fucking hotttt_ kind of way, but in an…unconventional kind of way. He was funny; nobody had ever made Loki laugh so hard or so much. He was smart – smarter than some people gave him credit for. Also incredibly dumb at the same time, but that was okay. And he was practically the sweetest person Loki had ever met, something that he sometimes thought nobody noticed but him.

He knew, when he was alone later that night and had time to actually think back on the moment  
he would realize that he was being completely ridiculous. After all, it was probably just a combination of not having seen him in days, and finally, _finally_, an effect of having all his friends coupled up, and still being single. Not that it had ever really bothered him before.

But he saw himself being – God, it killed him to admit it; happy, standing there with Tony.

And it scared the shit out of him.

He was about to pull away, jerk his hand out of that of his companions and request that they go back, it was too cold for this. And really, he wanted to kill himself (or Tony) because of it, but, he really didn't want to. It couldn't hurt, could it? Spending time like this? It wasn't like he was leading Tony on – the other student obviously didn't want Loki that way, so it couldn't hurt. As long as he didn't do anything stupid and blow it, it couldn't hurt.

Besides, this was silly, he was _straight_, he had always been _straight_ dammit.

And yet, he couldn't help it, _he couldn't help_ grabbing Tony's hand a little tighter, allowing the threatening wide smile to engulf all his facial features, and pull him along, saying as he did, "Come on, there's so much stuff I have to show you – have you never been in this part of Harlem before? _What?_ You've never even been to Harlem? Then I'm going to need a lot more than one afternoon."

"So where are you staying while you're – Jesus, Tony!" He yelped suddenly when the grinning student seized his hand, which had been safely hiding in the sleeve of his coat. "You have the hands of an 85 year old man!"

"Hey, what can I say? I'm a player."

"Oh my God. So do you have a place you're staying, or were you just planning-"

"Um," He suddenly looked uncomfortable, and his hand that wasn't gripping Loki's began pulling at the strings of his coat. "Well I was planning to just stay at my dad's place in New York, y'know? Just to get some time on my own without having to spend an entire _two weeks_ with the guy. It'll be nice. I haven't had time to myself in _forever_…"

"Come one." Tony looked up, startled, when he felt Loki's finger gently wrap around his wrist and a small smile greeted him. "You don't need to do that. I'm staying with my mother and Thor for break, they won't mind you staying."

"If you're sure…" But he already felt the warm feeling unfurling in his chest.

"Don't be dense, Tony. Of course it is."

The spend the rest of the walk in silence, but it wasn't awkward. At least, not to Tony. They didn't need to talk.

Loki didn't let go until they had walked all the way to his front door. Tony didn't think he minded all that much. Loki, on the other hand, appeared to be becoming more and more worried as they drew closer. "Here, when we get to my house, if you could just wait in my room for a few minutes, I just want to have a few…words with Thor."

Loki's room looked exactly as Tony expected it would, and he couldn't help but smirking as Loki practically pushed him into it with a mumbled apology at how messy it was. The smirk turned into an outright cackle when Tony caught the embarrassed teen attempting to surreptitiously snag a pair of boxers flying on the floor on his way out after he sabotaged himself by cursing as he stepped on a stray pencil. And it wasn't exactly _messy_, not quite, more…lived in. The grey walls were relatively bare, with the exception of the one across from the door, on which board had been nailed up in the attempt to turn the entire wall into a sort of giant bookcase. Paper and more books littered the desks. While the floor was covered by t-shirt and jeans and – you guessed it – more books.

And damn it – Tony tried. He really did. He did his very best to occupy himself by looking around for what felt like hours (five minutes) but how long did somebody really expect _Tony Stark_ to stay occupied in a room filled with nothing but printed paper?

As quietly as he could, he moved to the door, moving his face closer to the chink between it and the wall left when Loki didn't close it properly.

"…expect me to think?"

"I don't _expect_ you to think anything! I never told you who I was meeting, I just said a friend! Anything else, you assumed by yourself!" From Tony's view, he could just barely see into the kitchen where the two were talking. Loki had just stalked angrily out of his line of sight, but Thor, his arms crossed, was still fully in view.

"Then, if you were in _my_ position, what would _you_ think?"

"Does it matter?" Loki angrily threw his hands into the air as he marched back into view. "Listen to what I'm telling you; _Tony is my friend._ You don't have to be so worried all the time, I'll find a nice girl eventually, but I've been in school. _Studying_. I'm not trying to hide anything because there's nothing to hide!"

He stopped, looking up at his brother, feelings of betrayal written all across his features. "_Thor_. I would _tell_ you, okay? You _know_ me. Better than anyone."

Tony wasn't even going to pretend that didn't sting a little as it sunk in.

"If I was anything other than what you thought, I would tell you. I promise. Alright?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"I believe you. I just don't want you to be misguided by these people who call themselves your friends. They all-"

He had heard enough. His back connected painfully with the corner of the dresser as he jerked away, head spinning. Letting out a shaky breath, he didn't even look up when he heard the door creak open.

"Tony, Christ, you look sick. Are you okay?" He reached out a hand to grasp at Tony's shoulders as he continued surveying the floor.

"Fine…fine…"

"Alright. Well, I talked with Thor, and it's totally fine for you to stay tonight."

"Thanks." But he didn't look okay. And to be honest, Loki didn't feel that good himself. It made him feel sick, when he lied to his brother. There was no point of working him up over something that didn't exist though. So pushing the burning feelings back down, he forced his face to relax as Tony look up and finally met his eyes.

Loki really hated himself sometimes.


End file.
